


Someone to Love

by serenbach



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Matchmaking, Pining, but not series 7 compliant, matchmaking failures, set post series 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because Robbie had promised never to mention it again didn’t mean that he had changed his mind. James needed a partner. And if James wasn’t going to look for one off his own back, Robbie would do it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Love

Just because Robbie had promised never to mention it again didn’t mean that he had changed his mind. James needed a partner. Someone to be there for him when he came home after a hard day, someone he could confide in and lean on, someone who would love him unconditionally, awkward sod that he was. 

Robbie wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, if he hadn’t been able to see for himself just how _unhappy_ James looked recently. Not quiet or withdrawn, the lad could still talk for England if the subject interested him, but when he didn’t think Robbie was paying attention he let his mask slip and he looked miserable, and troubled, and alone. Robbie hated that look. 

He didn’t think James was in any sort of trouble; surely, after everything, James would come to him if he were? So it had to be something else, and Robbie was pretty sure he knew what it. Loneliness could wear a person down, Robbie knew that better than anyone, knew how hard it was to go home to a flat filled with nothing but silence. And if all the invitations he accepted for a pint after work, or curry and a bad film back at Robbie’s flat were any indication, James knew it too.

So it was decided; if James wasn’t going to look for a partner off his own back, Robbie would do it for him. While he wasn’t entirely certain of James’ romantic preferences, (he wasn’t sure if James was even entirely certain of that) he knew him well enough to judge what James needed in a partner, man or woman. Someone intelligent and well-read, that was a given. Preferably someone who enjoyed music, and could play an instrument. Mostly though, James needed someone who was patient and kind, who wouldn’t pressure James into talking when he didn’t feel like it, but would provide a listening ear when one was needed. Someone who could see past the “posh nob” persona that James showed to the world to the open and vulnerable soul underneath. 

And if keeping his eye open for a partner for his sergeant paid off, and James finding someone meant that Robbie spent more evenings alone, well, that was a price he was perfectly willing to pay. He’d had his time, after all. James should have his own. 

\----

The first potential partner Robbie considered was the graduate student they consulted after their latest victim, found with his head caved in on the towpath, had a note written in what looked like hieroglyphics folded up in his pocket, and James had confessed to not being able to read it (“I’m afraid I don’t speak every ancient language, sir, I do apologise for the oversight.”)

She was a pretty young girl, Robbie thought, but it was the eagerness that she took the note from James’ hand, the enthusiasm for her subject that he thought might appeal to James.

“Hmm,” she said, studying the note, “while these are Egyptian hieroglyphics, they are not actually written in either Ancient Egyptian or a letter-by-letter English translation. If I had to guess, it looks like whoever wrote this used the hieroglyphics as the base for their own code.” 

Robbie rolled his eyes. As if they needed another complication. “Is there anything else you can tell us?” he asked.

“That might be a name,” she said, pointing to a group of letters that had been circled. “It looks a bit like a cartouche...”

“The Ancient Egyptians used to draw them around names in the belief it would protect the person named from evil spirits, sir,” James chimed in.

“Exactly!” she replied, smiling brightly at him. James’ ears turned a little pink and he covered it by ducking his head to look back at the note. 

Robbie hid his smile. “You’ve been very helpful. Have you got a card so we can contact you again if we need to?”

“Of course. I hope you manage to find out what it says.” She handed her card to Robbie who passed it straight to James as soon as they reached the car park.

“Here, you best hang on to this,” he said, watching to make sure James put it away safely. “You might need it again later – she might be some help when it comes to cracking the code.”

The case turned out to be quite easy to solve – once the code was cracked, the letter turned out to be a love note from a student whose boyfriend had already been done for GBH in an attempt to hide the fact she was seeing someone else – and Robbie sent James home after pulling yet another all-nighter to work out the cipher.

The next day, they went for a pint after work and Robbie asked “did you call her for help working out the code?”

“Who?” James asked, taking a sip.

“That Egyptologist, who did you think?”

“Oh,” James answered, “there was no need. The code used letter-by-letter English translations, but instead used the first letter of the victim’s name as the first letter of the alphabet, so “a” became “i” and so forth. It was quite simple when I realised.” He must have caught Robbie’s disappointed expression as he asked, “why? You don’t think she knew more than she was saying, do you?” 

“No lad, I don’t,” Robbie sighed. Perhaps trying to set James up with someone involved with a case, however peripherally, was a bad idea (he’d clearly learned from experience there). All in all, probably for the best. And perhaps Robbie had been too subtle. Next time, he would have to do more than just give James someone else’s phone number.

\----

The next promising person Robbie found for James was the new waitress at one of his favourite cafes. He struck up a conversation with her a few times to discover that she was a freelance writer who was supplementing her income. She was clever and a bit cheeky, both things that reminded him of a certain someone. And, he had spotted her reading at least two books that he knew for a fact James had read, which would give them something to talk about in that awkward getting-to-know each other stage. 

So, one day he offered to treat his sergeant to a well-earned lunch and casually asked her, as she was dishing up chips on to his plate, and a baked potato onto James’, “Are you enjoying that, pet?” He nodded at the book, some doorstopper by someone called Umberto Eco. “I think James has read that one.” He knew for a fact James had read it, it had rattled round on his back seat for a week or so while Robbie had both mocked and marvelled at his ability to get through it so quickly. 

“Really,” the waitress asked, perking up. “What did you think?”

Robbie smiled to himself as they started chatting, James as unselfconscious as he’d ever seen him. Clearly, the book had been an excellent idea for an ice-breaker. He took his tray and went to sit alone, sprinkling salt and vinegar on his chips, and tried not to peak over at them.

It wasn’t long before James joined him however. “She seems nice,” Robbie tried, hoping he didn’t sound too nosy. He didn’t want James to figure out what he had been up to. 

“Hmm,” James replied in an infuriatingly non-committal tone. “Do you think you have enough chips to go with that salt?”

“Oi, shut it, you,” Robbie replied, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. “You’re just jealous because mine actually tastes of something.”

“Grease and salt. Sounds delicious,” James said, neatly cutting into his potato. Robbie grinned to himself. Despite all of his careful planning, he couldn’t help feeling glad that James had chosen to come and sit with him. He was never boring company.

Robbie felt a thrill of victory when the waitress came over to hand their change (she gave it to James, he noticed) and he couldn’t help but notice that she had written her phone number on the receipt. 

It was short-lived though, as James left the receipt on the table. There was no way he could not have seen it, so Robbie could only conclude that he wasn’t interested. 

A pity. He would just have to try again.

\----

Robbie’s third attempt at matchmaking was not deliberate. While they had been chasing a suspect, he had tripped James so he took a nasty fall and cracked his head on the edge of the curb. He’d lost consciousness for a few (horrible, endless) moments so Robbie called an ambulance, despite James’ groggy protests when he came round. 

The paramedic who attended them was a buff, outdoorsy type of man who Robbie had no doubt that Laura would classify as dishy, had she been there. And he was clearly interested in James, once it was clear that there was no serious damage, his touches to James’ head and his reassuring squeezes to his knee were a little too lingering to be purely professional, his smile a touch too warm and eye-contact held just a little too long.

Just because Robbie hadn’t planned it didn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea, however. He was friendly and seemed to genuinely care for James’ well-being, which were points in his favour, and although he was a little older than James (though younger than him. Robbie had no idea why that thought popped into his head) that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

“I don’t think there is anything to worry about,” the paramedic said once he had finished his examination, “but I would like to take you in, seeing how you lost consciousness. We’ll get you set up with some painkillers, as well; you’re bound to have a cracking headache tonight.”

James nodded, then winced. Robbie squeezed his arm consolingly. “I’ll follow along behind the ambulance,” he assured him. It wouldn’t hurt for them to spend some time in each other’s company; after all, not to mention he’d rather James be in an ambulance at the moment. 

Once James had been examined they decided to keep him in overnight, just to be on the safe side, so Robbie went to pick up some things from James’ flat after his sergeant had begged not to suffer the horrors of a hospital nightgown.

When he arrived back at the hospital, the paramedic was at James’ bedside, clearly checking up on him. Robbie hid a smile and lurked around the corner for a few moments so as not to interrupt. Eventually, he patted James on the shoulder and left, and Robbie felt it was safe to come out of hiding. 

“You’ll be glad to know we caught him,” he started, sitting in the chair by James’s bed and handing him the bag he’d packed.

“Good,” James replied with a small, self-depreciating grin. His eyes were bright and glassy, either through pain or medication, and he looked exhausted. Robbie felt a lurch of satisfaction in remembering adding “assaulting a police officer” to the suspect’s already long list of charges. “At least my bruises aren’t in vain.”

“You need to cultivate a harder skull. Protect that big brain of yours, lad.”

James huffed a laugh. “I’ll try my best, sir.” 

His eyelids were already drooping and Robbie knew he shouldn’t stay for too much longer. There was just one thing he wanted to know. “It was good of that paramedic to check up on you.” James nodded carefully. “He seems nice.”

“Yes, he is,” James agreed. Robbie couldn’t help but smile. “He’s also married.”

Robbie’s smile dropped. “Oh.”

James made an effort to open his eyes and smile at him. “I notice I have been meeting a few “nice” people, recently.”

“I -” Robbie started, though he had no idea how he would finish that sentence.

“You weren’t all that subtle about it, I’m afraid. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, sir. It is just unnecessary.” James didn’t look happy about his statement though.

“Why?” Robbie couldn’t help but ask. “Have you found someone?” 

James sighed. “No one who feels the same.” He looked unhappy again, and Robbie recognised that expression, he had seen it more times than he could count. The lad was suffering from unrequited love. No wonder he was miserable.

“Are you sure about that? Have you asked them?”

James shook his head briefly, before stopping as his face twisted in pain. “They would only feel awkward, and I would never risk my friendship with them.”

His eyes slid closed again, and Robbie knew that the only reason he was getting so much information was because James was in an unusually vulnerable state. He would never normally offer so many details. He decided not to push for more.

“Well, if they can’t see what a catch you are then they are clearly not all that bright,” Robbie offered, hoping it was comforting.

For some reason, James seemed to find that funny. Robbie assumed it was the medication. “At least I have you, sir.”

Robbie chuckled and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Aye, at least there’s that. How about I take you out for a pint once you are out of here? Drown your sorrows?”

James didn’t answer. He was already asleep, a tiny smile on his lips. At least Robbie’s attempts at matchmaking had cheered him up a little. That was something. 

He didn’t think much of whoever it was that James was pining over, though, if they couldn’t see what a wonderful partner he would make. The lad was funny and clever, and had a kind heart under that smart mouth of his. Robbie was never bored or lonely when he was around. And, though it had taken a bit of twisting it around in his head, he could agree with Laura’s nine. Whoever it was was clearly blind if they couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

\----

Truth be told, Robbie’s last attempt at matchmaking was as much a surprise to him as it was for James. After he’d been released from hospital, and his concussion had eased, Robbie had taken him out for the promised pint, and then a few more after work, to meals at his flat with more and more frequency (they were working the box set of the new Doctor Who together, more his choice than James’, though he didn’t seem to mind all that much).

The idea of matchmaking had all but slipped from Robbie’s head. James seemed much happier these days, and Robbie enjoyed his company, more than just enjoyed it. Valued it.

So he truly hadn’t intended to match-make when he introduced James to Shaun. 

James had, somewhat shyly, asked Robbie to come and watch a gig with his band at local pub, and though it wasn’t particularly his kind of music, James had looked so hopeful that Robbie hadn’t found it in himself to disappoint him.

He found himself watching James’ face mostly, rather than paying attention to the music itself. He was intent with concentration, an expression Robbie often saw at work, but unlike at work James looked peaceful and content. 

He loved seeing James like that, wanted to see him like that all the time. Wanted to be the cause of that expression. 

Robbie loved him. It wasn’t as much of a shock as it should have been.

He’d been trying to make James happy by setting him up, but hadn’t there been a part of him that had been relieved when it didn’t work out? Glad that James had learned not to mix investigations and romance, happy that James hadn’t abandoned him to talk to the girl at the cafe? Unhappy somewhere deep down at the realisation that if that paramedic was bordering on being too old for James, then he had crossed that line decades ago?

What was he going to do now? It wasn’t as if he had a chance with James anyway, even if he was willing to overlook their difference in age and all the problems it would cause at work. He was still hung up, though he hadn’t mentioned it again, on that idiot who couldn’t see how lucky they were. 

“Aren’t they incredible?” the man next to him murmured. Robbie nodded absently, his heart still racing from his revelation. 

He’d wanted to buy some time come to terms with his feelings. So when James came up to him when the set was finished, still with that soft smile on his face, Robbie had blurted, “I think I’ve met a fan of yours here, James.” And the man next to him had been all too eager for the introduction. 

That was how James met Shaun. Shaun who, as it turned out, was studying medieval music, and soon he and James were caught up in discussions about the developments of polophonic and homophonic music, as well as something called a sackbut. 

They were so absorbed in their conversation that James didn’t even notice when he got up and left, unable to watch them talk any longer.

His matchmaking scheme had been successful after all. Typical. He didn’t know how he would face James at work on Monday, though he knew he would have to be gracious and supportive about whatever happened with Shaun. James was his friend, after all. He didn’t want to let him down.

He hadn’t got more than halfway home, before a familiar voice called “sir?” from behind him.

Robbie turned, his heart fluttering ridiculously in his chest. “James,” he replied, with something that was hopefully a smile.

“I wondered where you’d got to. I suppose you don’t find the development of music as interesting as I do. I didn’t mean to leave you out of the conversation.”

“Don’t be soft, lad, you were having fun,” he managed. “And what’s a sackbut when it’s at home, anyway?”

James laughed softly. “A type of early trombone.”

“Ah.” James fell into step besides him and they walked in silence for a while. 

“When are you going to see him again?” Robbie asked. Probably best to know the worst right away.

“Who? Shaun?” James asked, looking at him curiously. “I’m not. Why, were you matchmaking again, sir?”

James smiled at him fondly, but there was something else other than fondness in his expression, something aching and longing, and finally, Robbie realised. 

“They really are an idiot, you know,” Robbie announced, barely keeping himself from laughing with relief and joy.

If the look James gave him was any indication, he wasn’t quite successful. “Who?”

“The person you’re interested in. He should have worked it out a long time ago.” James slowed, then stopped entirely. He looked stricken.

“Sir-“ 

Robbie reached out and took his hand, and squeezed it lightly. “Come back to mine for a cuppa? Please?”

James looked down at their joined hands and swallowed hard, but when he looked up, his face was burning with joy. “Yes. Please, yes.”

Robbie’s throat felt tight and he took a moment before he could clear it enough to speak. “Well, come on then, lad.”

They walked together in a silence that was just a little too eager to be comfortable. “Sir,” James said after a little while (and that was certainly something they were going to have to talk about). “Have you considered becoming a matchmaker once you retire? It turns out you have quite a knack for it.”

Robbie rolled his eyes. What was he getting himself into? Still he couldn’t mind James being cheeky, not while he was smiling like that.

**Author's Note:**

> My Lewis_Challenge fic over at LJ and also handily filling the 'someone to love' square on my love_bingo card.


End file.
